"Lynn Flewelling - Raven's Cut" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flewelling Lynn)

anyway, but there were already over a dozen when I first found out about them. That seemed like a lot of
killing for one man, and a lot of work for no profit. Some folks whispered it was some necromancer at
work, but when I finally saw the cut on one of the bod-ies, it was nothing special, just a shallow slit under
the breastbone.
"And this was your Raven?" Tahan broke in impatiently.
Mijar nodded. "Yes, he was my Raven."
It took me nearly three weeks but I found him at last. I must have watched a dozen killings, but finally,
just before dawn one day, I came across a dark form bent over a guard of the City Watch. The bluecoat
wasn't quite dead yetтАФI could hear him wheezingтАФ but my assassin had the guard's tunic open and was
making that cut of his. He bent low over the man's chest and I thought I could hear him whispering to the
bluecoat as he died.
Then he whirled around all of a sudden, looking down at my end of the alleyway. A little blood had
gotten on his face, and he still held the knife, but he didn't seem too worried about getting caught. In fact,
he winked in my direction and took a moment to cut a lock of the dead man's hair. While he's still at this,
he calls out, "Come out, friend, and show yourself. It's time we met, don't you think? You've worked so
hard to find me."
"I've found my man," thinks 1.1 showed myself, but kept well out of reach until I could gauge his mood.
"A boy! Just a sweet lad, you are!" he exclaimed, and you never heard such a pleasant voice. I could tell
then that he was a foreigner, though he was well spoken. By the cut of his coat and boots, I guessed he
was a merchant, or at least passing himself off so. I couldn't quite place his accent then, but now I'd
know him for a northern Plenimaran. How he got himself into Rhim-inee in those days, I never did learn.
Perhaps because he was so ordinary, someone you wouldn't look twice atтАФplain as a mud bank, mild in
his manner, quiet in his ways. You never saw anyone with such a knack for going unnoticed.
I made my offer to him with the body going cold at our feet, and he said yes, pleased as a man with a
free round in front of him. "I like to kill," he told me, shaking on it. 'Take me to this Master of yours, and
I'll swear the oath, any one he likes."
And that's-how I brought Raven into the Rhiminee assassins guild.
Master was delighted and soon declared him as good a snuffer as he'd ever seen. He was like smoke hi
the dark, Raven was, unseen and silent. Except for his hands, he wasn't a big man, or all that smart, as it
turned out. But he was strong, and a natural stalker. When he strangled, he used only his bare hands. He
told me once that he loved the feel of a man's throat, the thicker the better. He even put his hands around
my neck now and then, teasing. "No meat on you, Skut," he'd say, then add, "Yet!" and laugh 'til tears
stood in his eyes. Simply knifing someone was no fun at all, according to him, unless it was a woman.
Everyone has their quirks, perhaps more so with folks in our trade. Raven, though, was the most
mild-mannered, businesslike assassin you ever met. He didn't even rob the bodies. The fact was, he
didn't seem to care about any of the usual baubles and comforts the rest of us rooked away, or even
whores or taverns. He kept his room neat and plain, with just the furniture that had been there when he
came, and was quiet and polite with the other members.
I was the one he took to, mostly. Raven was good to me, as good as Master was. He wasn't much of a
talker, but he used his pay to buy me little things he knew I liked. I tried to do the same for him, but he
never seemed to want anything beyond the basics. He didn't even take much to sweets. I asked him once
what his favorite food was, and he just smiled and shook his head.
Raven had only two habits that stood out, aside from his love of strangling, and only one that struck
anyone as odd. He wouldn't kill a child, no matter what the price. He told Master this the first time they
met, and repeated it often. That wasn't a problem; there wasn't much call for child killings in Skala
anyway, and we had a woman, Spider Marta, who took care of what few came our way. She was kind
in her work, but Raven hated her on sight. Master tasked me with keeping the two of them apart. Raven
could not abide a child killer.
No, the real problem we had with him was his habit of cutting chests and collecting hair. I was out with
him on his first guild job and got a firsthand look. He strangled the man down, then took out that wicked